home » Romance » Stephenie Meyer » The Host (The Host #1) » The Host (The Host #1) Page 169

The Host (The Host #1) Page 169
Author: Stephenie Meyer

I almost didn’t recognize her tear-swollen face. She was curled into a tight, tiny ball on the floor in the middle of the passageway. Her eyes were wide, not quite comprehending who I was.

“Why?” she asked me.

I stared at her wordlessly.

“I said that life and love go on. But why do they? They shouldn’t. Not anymore. What’s the point?”

“I don’t know, Lily. I’m not sure what the point is.”

“Why?” she asked again, not speaking to me anymore. Her glassy eyes looked right through me.

I stepped carefully past her and hurried to my room. I had my own question that had to be answered.

To my great relief, the room was empty. I threw myself facedown on the mattress where Jamie and I slept.

When I’d told Jeb I had one more question, that was the truth. But the question was not for the Seeker. The question was for me.

The question was would I—not could I—do it?

I could save the Seeker’s life. I knew how. It would not endanger any of the lives here. Except my own. I would have to trade that.

No. Melanie tried to be firm through her panic.

Please let me think.

No.

This is the thing, Mel. It’s inevitable anyway. I can see that now. I should have seen it long ago. It’s so obvious.

No, it isn’t.

I remembered our conversation when Jamie was ill. When we were making up. I’d told her that I wouldn’t erase her and that I was sorry that I couldn’t give her more than that.

It wasn’t so much a lie as it was an unfinished sentence. I couldn’t give her more than that—and stay alive myself.

The actual lie had been given to Jared. I’d told him, just seconds later, that I didn’t know how to make myself not exist. In the context of our discussion, it was true. I didn’t know how to fade away, here inside Melanie. But I was surprised I hadn’t heard the obvious lie right then, hadn’t seen in that moment what I was seeing now. Of course I knew how to make myself not exist.

It was just that I had never considered that option viable, ultimate betrayal that it was to every soul on this planet.

Once the humans knew that I had this answer, the one they had murdered for over and over again, it would cost me.

No, Wanda!

Don’t you want to be free?

A long pause.

I wouldn’t ask you for this, she finally said. And I wouldn’t do it for you. And I sure as hell wouldn’t do it for the Seeker!

You don’t have to ask. I think I might have volunteered… eventually.

Why do you think that? she demanded, her tone close to a sob. It touched me. I expected her to be elated.

In part because of them. Jared and Jamie. I can give them the whole world, everything they want. I can give them you. I probably would have realized that… someday. Who knows? Maybe Jared would have asked. You know I wouldn’t have said no.

Ian’s right. You’re too self-sacrificing. You don’t have any limits. You need limits, Wanda!

Ah, Ian, I moaned. A new pain twisted through me, surprisingly close to my heart.

You’ll take the whole world away from him. Everything he wants.

It would never work with Ian. Not in this body, even though he loves it. It doesn’t love him.

Wanda, I… Melanie struggled for words. Still, the joy I expected from her did not come. Again, this touched me. I don’t think I can let you do this. You’re more important than that. In the bigger picture, you are of much more value to them than I am. You can help them; you can save them. I can’t do any of that. You have to stay.

I can’t see any other way, Mel. I wonder how I didn’t see it sooner. It seems so completely obvious. Of course I have to go. Of course I have to give you yourself back. I already knew we souls were wrong to come here. So I don’t have any choice now but to do the right thing, and leave. You all survived without me before; you’ll do it again. You’ve learned so much about the souls from me—you’ll help them. Can’t you see? This is the happy ending. It’s the way they all need the story to finish. I can give them hope. I can give them… not a future. Maybe not that. But as much as I can. Everything I can.

No, Wanda, no.

She was crying, becoming incoherent. Her sorrow brought tears to my eyes. I’d no idea that she cared so much for me. Almost as much as I cared for her. I hadn’t realized that we loved each other.

Even if Jared had never asked me for this, even if Jared did not exist… Once this path had occurred to me, I would have had to proceed down it. I loved her that much.

No wonder the success rate for resistant hosts was so low here on Earth. Once we learned to love our human host, what hope did we souls have? We could not exist at the expense of one we loved. Not a soul. A soul could not live that way.

I rolled myself over and, in the starlight, I looked at my body.

My hands were dirty and scratched, but under the surface blemishes, they were beautiful. The skin was a pretty sun-browned color; even bleached in the pale light, it was pretty. The nails were chewed short but still healthy and smooth, with little half moons of white at the bases. I fluttered my fingers, watching the muscles pull the bones in graceful patterns. I let them dance above me, where they became black fluid shapes against the stars.

I ran them through my hair. It was almost to my shoulders now. Mel would like that. After a few weeks of shampoo in hotel showers and Health vitamins, it was glossy and soft again.

I stretched my arms out as far as they would go, tugging against the tendons until some of my joints cracked. My arms felt strong. They could pull me up a mountainside, they could carry a heavy load, they could plow a field. But they were also soft. They could hold a child, they could comfort a friend, they could love… but that was not for me.

Search
Stephenie Meyer's Novels
» Breaking Dawn (Twilight #4)
» Eclipse (Twilight #3)
» New Moon (Twilight #2)
» The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner (Twilight #3.5)
» The Host (The Host #1)
» Midnight Sun (Twilight #1.5)
» Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined (Twilight #1.75)
» Twilight (Twilight #1)